The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1887-03-24

depot some of their friends had gathered
to hear the news.
OF each aud all, they asked the same
question.
Have you ever heard of Nastalgys"
And Zone of them had ever heard of
It, but all agreed that it must be
dreadful thing to have such difficult
name.
When they reached the city they
had cried and worried themselves
sick.
At least the two women had. Tho
father, with the stoicism Of his kind,
had beat constant tattoo on the car
window and whistlcd an accom-.
paniment-all the time he was crying in
his heart.
"Oh, Absalom, my sonl my sonp
There was no one to meet them, as no
one was interested in their coming ex-
cept Ben and the doctor, and they
neither of them had heard of their in
intentions.
So they went at once to the place
where Ben boarded, drcary house,
with innumerablc small, ill-ventilated
rooms, where for the entire sum that he
earned weekly Ben Connover was per.
mitted to lodge.
The doctor had made his hospital
rounds that night, and his last call was
on Ben. He was young physician, and
very Jealous over his patients. He took
an interest in the handsome, whole
soulcd country boy who was unsc-
customed to close rooms and sewer gas
and lonely hours, and so wrote that let
ter to his mother.
And as they stood on the step ringing
the grumbling bell he walked up and
soon discovered who they were, and
made himself known.
ooh, Doctor, is there any hope9
doctor, will my boy get wcll9
doctor, is he still alivc2"
These were the questions that wer
poured into the doctors ears.
How very unlceling of him to laugh /!
"Why, there is nothing in the world
the matter with him! As l wrote you
it's only bad case of nostalgia"
"Doctor" said the father stcrnly,
'put that ere word in plain English!"
"Oh, see," laughed the doctor. ut
is the medical term for homcsickncss.
And that was all that ailcd the boy.
A good deal of mental longing and
worry had brought on fever, and Ben
was fast becoming really i'll, but the
sympathetic young doctor had diagnosed
his case correctly. He was soldier who
was not sick from any fatal malady. He
was homesick.
"Now that we're here we'll stay and
see the sights, Sarah Ann," Mr.. Como
yer said to his wife, "and you can coddle
Ben all you want to-"
And Ben was very willing to be cod
died. But it was strange that after
explaining that big medical word, the
doctor still kept coming. 1t worried
the old couple little, because they
thought Ben must be in danger after
all.
But it was the doctor who was in
danger now. He had transferred his
interest in the brother to tho sister. And
no word was big enough to diagnose his
case.
BUTT all came out right. Only Ber
must have tonics and directions, and al
last the doctor went out there anG
established a practice, leaving out the
Latin words.
And he was right. There is no more
insidious disease than homesicknes IS.
When the Swiss soldiers, the braves
fighters in the world, hear the familiar
RAM des baches they lean on their car
bines and weep for their loved glaciers
and mountain pines, and often die o
that hidden wound of the heart-whos
classical name is nostalgia, and whicl
freely translated means sickness 70
home. - Detroit Free Press.